Homecoming
by the.terrorist
Summary: Sasu/Saku. He wasn't willing to open up and be happy. She wasn't able to give him a good reason to take a chance. So, why did he keep her by his side, regardless?
1. Part I

It was the single most awkward moment of her entire life—standing there, next to her ex-boyfriend, in an empty room, with no one to keep them company but silence.

Sakura thought she could _kill_ Naruto. There was no way he hadn't realized he'd asked them both to come at the same time, and this emergency of his that appeared to have sprung out of nowhere was more than a little suspicious.

She'd never hated his tendency to stick his nose in everybody's business more than she did in that very moment.

But he only had good intentions, she remembered, and it was that which seemed to save him, time and time again, from a lecture that should leave his ears bleeding and scarred. He loved her; he loved Sasuke; he wanted them to be happy. He simply had a small issue realizing when to stop meddling and understanding the true gravity of a situation—a long-time issue that she'd eventually come to accept about him, because that was what friends did: accepted each other despite their flaws.

Taking a sip of her cold beer, she shifted her weight to her right leg.

She'd been invited to Naruto and Hinata's engagement party—or, rather, _pre_-engagement party. The Hyuuga family had taken the small, intimate gathering wanted by the soon-to-be newlyweds and turned it into a blown-out, formal event that had guests coming from every corner of Fire Country and beyond, so the two of them had settled for the next best thing and organized a little house-warming party as a compromise. Being the good friend that she was, Sakura had promised to arrive early so she could help with the preparations, something to which Naruto had instantly agreed—something that should have rang alarm bells from the very start, she now realized. The blond was always complaining about how she worked too much, too hard, and took every opportunity to tell her to relax, to get some sleep, to take some time off.

At least now she knew why he hadn't cared this time around.

Standing across from her, separated only by the small kitchen island, was Sasuke, in all his glory. Save for the fact that he wasn't dressed in his usual ninja gear, but rather in casual jeans and a navy button-down shirt, he looked exactly the same as the last time she'd seen him—exactly the same as he'd always looked.

She ignored the selfish part of her that she knew had wished—maybe even expected, to a certain degree—to see him look different; to see _something_ in his expression, in his stance, in his eyes… something, _anything_, to tell her that he'd missed her, at least a little bit, at least for a little while, at least at night or in the mornings when he didn't find breakfast on the table.

There was nothing.

Same cold eyes, same emotionless countenance, same spiky hair that seemed to defy gravity. He was just as tall, just as strong, just as painfully beautiful and infuriatingly composed.

A light breeze blew in from the open patio doors, and she shivered in her sleeveless dress.

"So…" she started, eager to break the silence, willing to do just about anything to ease the awkwardness of the situation—and the painful clench of her heart. "How have you been?"

Even his response was the same. "Hn."

She huffed, smiling bitterly to herself before taking another sip of her beer. She should have known he would never change, and as much as she tried to see it as a good thing—because, after all, if that was the case, then it couldn't have been her fault that their relationship hadn't worked; it wasn't her that hadn't managed to make him open up, but him who hadn't wanted to—she couldn't help the way her heart squeezed in her chest and her eyes prickled with the familiar sting of hot tears.

She hated herself because of that; because of her blatant weakness, especially with how hard she'd worked, for all of her life, not to be vulnerable. But her armor stopped functioning when it came to him. It always had, and now she knew it always would.

So, she hated _him_. She hated him for doing what he did to her—and then she hated herself again, for allowing him to. She should have stayed away, from the very start. She should have listened to everybody who dared to point out the truth she was trying so hard to ignore. She should have realized he wouldn't make her happy. She should have known.

Should have, should have, should have.

And yet, she'd done none of it.

She and Sasuke had been happy, in the beginning. At least, that was what she thought. She'd yet to work out whether that had only been because _she_'d been so happy to finally have him, finally be able to hold him and kiss him, and tell people he was hers, or because there had truly, honestly been happy times for both of them—because they'd both been content in each other's presence.

On the especially cold, lonely nights, she had to live with the thought that it had all been just an illusion.

But then, slowly, the joyful glow had dissipated, and she'd come to realize just how hard it was to love him. She wanted to. God knew she wanted to. And she did, with all of her heart. But he made it so, so difficult. He didn't let her. He pushed her away more than he let her in and every step forward that they seemed to take was followed by two steps back.

She lasted for two entire years. Two years of waiting for a sign that he felt the same way. Two years of waiting not for a spoken 'I love you', but for a gesture, as small as it might have been. For him to hold her hand in public. For him to stop pulling away from her hugs. For him to initiate a kiss without its only purpose being to take it further.

She didn't even ask for much. She didn't ask for words, because she knew they came hard for him. She didn't ask for a proposal, because she knew how insecure he felt about the prospect of a family ever since he found out the whole truth about his brother and his clan. She didn't even dare to ask for the same love that she had for him. All she asked for was for him to care about her—and to show her that, at least once. Once would have been enough. It had been all she'd asked for.

And he'd blatantly refused to give it to her.

She knew she'd left her heart with him the day she'd walked out of their apartment—but, by being away from him, she'd ensured she couldn't feel when he cut into it anymore.

Not as much as she did when they were together, at least.

Shaking her head at the prolonged silence, Sakura set her beer bottle on the granite counter and grabbed her small purse, turning around to leave.

She made it two steps from the kitchen entrance before he called out for her.

"Running away again?" he drawled in his lazy voice, and she almost got angry.

She turned to face him. "I'm not going to stand here and pretend this isn't awkward."

No emotion crossed his face. "So, what are you going to do?"

"Leave. I'll come back later, when Naruto's already here."

"That's ridiculous, Sakura," he huffed—three words that almost broke her.

_That's ridiculous, Sakura_, he'd say whenever she voiced a thought or a silly theory.

_That's ridiculous, Sakura_, he'd say whenever she talked about adding vegetables to a dish that didn't have them in it.

_That's ridiculous, Sakura_, he'd say whenever she let him know she would be in the hospital for longer than was considered normal.

_That's ridiculous, Sakura_, he said when she walked out on him and motivated her decision by telling him it was almost as if they weren't a couple anymore. It was as if they were mere roommates, greeting each other when they arrived home, saying goodnight when they went to sleep, asking each other if they should cook for one or two. That he didn't talk to her, that he didn't let her in his mind, that he didn't want her in his life. _It's ridiculous, Sakura_. Ridiculous that she'd imagined their life together would be any different. Ridiculous that she thought she'd be better off without him.

_That's ridiculous_. It was all she'd gotten out of him that night. It was the only argument he'd offered. It was the only thing he'd had to say—the phrase that he thought summed up their entire relationship. And it almost hurt more than the way _he_'d been the one to leave the scene first, turning on his heel to close himself into their bedroom.

Two years, and it seemed that she didn't even deserve to have him watch her back as she left.

_Why did you never love me?_ She almost—_almost_ asked. But she bit her tongue in the last moment, and instead breathed out a simple whisper, "Why?"

Sasuke looked at her blankly.

Slowly, she walked towards him, making her way, step by painful step, back to her previous spot.

Eventually, he asked. "Why what?"

"Why…" She stopped. There were so many questions that started with 'why'. So many questions that had—and would—remain unanswered. So many doubts about their relationship that still haunted her.

_Why didn't you love me?_

_Why didn't you hold my hand?_

_Why didn't you hold me when I slept?_

_Why didn't you stop me from leaving?_

_Why didn't you seek me out afterwards?_

_Why didn't you care?_

"Why didn't you break up with me?" she asked instead.

When he seemed genuinely taken aback by her question, she celebrated a small victory—she'd finally managed to make his poker face fall, if only for a second.

"What kind of question is that?" But his cryptic answers were still there, and she quickly realized she'd barely scratched his armor—a scratch in so many others that only marred the surface.

"I know you never loved me," she said.

In the back of her mind, she wondered how she had ended up having this conversation. She wondered why it was that, even after all these years, she couldn't stand to be in a room with him for more than five minutes before she broke down and started crying. She wondered, not for the first time, why she was still so damn _weak _when everybody else was already miles and miles ahead of her in every single aspect.

"I know you were never happy with me. I get that. But two years… Why didn't you end it sooner? You didn't bat an eyelash when I left." A tear escaped her eye and trailed down her cheek, and she did everything in her power to hold in a sob. "Why did you lead me on?"

A minute passed before he spoke. "I wasn't unhappy with you," he said, bringing his own bottle to his lips and looking away. "You're the one who left."

"And you did _nothing_ to stop me!" she almost yelled, slamming her purse down on the counter.

Sasuke shrugged, gaze still averted. "I'd known you would."

"What?" she breathed.

"I'd known you would," he repeated, louder.

For a moment, her world stood still. She was shocked. Then the anger stepped in. "Don't you _dare_," she hissed. "Don't you dare say that to me! I've stood by your side through _everything_, Uchiha Sasuke! I've loved you through _everything_, my entire life, no matter what you did, no matter what people said—no matter _what_, I've loved you _forever_!"

His answer was soft-spoken and simple. "Then why did you leave?" He sounded betrayed and hurt—and Sakura wouldn't allow him the privilege.

"Why did I _leave_?" she shrieked. "I spent two years of my life with a man who didn't even answer me when I asked how his mission went or what he wanted for dinner or what he thought of my new dress! You didn't hold my hand, you didn't kiss me, you didn't ask what was wrong when I was sad! You did _nothing_ of what a normal boyfriend would do, and you know what? You know what?! That would have been _fine_! It would have been perfectly fine if I'd known I actually _had_ a place in your life!"

"You did," he said.

"Then why didn't you come for me?" she retaliated. Her voice turned soft. "All you'd had to do, Sasuke… was grab my arm and tell me to stay. Knock on my door and tell me to come back. Anything… _anything_ to show me that I was in your life because you _wanted_ me there, not because… because I just was."

His onyx eyes flashed with anger. "Is that what this was, then? A test?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "But I waited up for you… so many nights… watched the door of my office for so many days… wanting you to open it. But you never did. You never came."

A moment passed in silence.

Sasuke broke it with a heavy sigh. "You'd known all along I wouldn't make you happy."

"You didn't have to," she said. "That… was all you had to do." She looked down. "I'm sorry I left you." The words came out shaky and choked. "I'm sorry, Sasuke. I really am. But the least I deserve, for loving you unconditionally… is for you to want that love. And to cherish it. There's no other way this could work… and I'm sorry I didn't know that from the very beginning."

* * *

SasuSaku Month 2014: July 15th—_her side of the story_

A/N: As stated, this was written for SasuSaku Month. It's a two-shot, so _his side of the story_ (ish) will also be posted, tomorrow. I had to switch the days so that the plot made sense, but I'm sure you don't mind!

Please let me know what you thought! :)


	2. Part II

Sakura heaved a sigh as she carefully placed her golden shoes back inside their box, closed the lid, and then stacked them on the highest shelf of her closet.

Seeing how most of her days were spent either in the hospital or out of the village, on missions, she didn't have a lot of chances to wear high heels and pretty dresses—and she couldn't help but feel slightly upset that she hadn't been able to enjoy this rare occasion.

She'd left the party early, and although a tinge of guilt came along with the action, she knew it had been for the best. Naruto had noticed something off about her, and instead of enjoying his party and his fiancée, he wasted his time trailing after her and trying to get her to speak, trying to find out what had happened, to console her and comfort her with both hugs and promises of kicking 'Sasuke-teme's ass'.

Sakura appreciated his efforts. But nothing of what he could say or do could possibly make her feel even the slightest bit better, which was why she'd decided it was time she left. Whether he had grasped the fact that all she wanted to do was head home, bury her face into her pillow, and cry her heart out or not, Naruto had seemed to understand that she was ruining his party with her presence more than she would with her absence, and had allowed her to leave without a fuss.

She'd gone home—but she hadn't cried. She didn't want to, and, frankly, she didn't think she even had any more tears to shed for him.

Instead, she took a long bath and changed into a comfortable pair of cotton pajamas.

She hadn't seen Sasuke for the rest of the party, and perhaps that had helped. She always felt horribly weak and vulnerable in his presence, never managed to hold herself together and always ended up with her thoughts and feelings spilled all over the floor in the space between them.

It always hurt to be around him now, hurt in a way it never had when they were together; hurt in a way that spelled out all the reasons why her heart was broken and no longer in her possession—he wasn't hers; he'd never cared about her; all the love that she'd had for him, all the love that she was capable of giving, hadn't been enough to bring him happiness.

But she'd learned that she _could_ live without him—and it was better, much better that way. Living with him, being by his side day after day, was more painful; there were thousands of opportunities at his disposal, thousands of chances he could use to stomp on her heart.

Without him… there was nothing. But nothing didn't hurt as much.

Still, her heart clenched in her chest as she hung her green dress away in her closet. No matter what had happened, no matter how painful it had been, no matter the distance between them, no matter the fact that she hadn't even _wanted_ to close it, hadn't wanted him back, hadn't wanted to return by his side… no matter _what_, she'd worn it for him. Everything she did… was still for him. Her life revolved around him, and even when he was no longer in it, it was incredibly difficult to make it stop.

But, as usual, he didn't notice, and he didn't care. His one purpose in life seemed to be to hurt her—again and again, as much as he could, in whatever creative way he found.

But what was Sasuke if not constant?

Shaking her head, she exited her small walk-in closet and flicked on the lamp on her nightstand, before walking out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where she started to prepare herself a cup of tea. God knew she could use a glass of alcohol—of whatever kind—but she knew from experience that, until she reached that blissful point where she didn't feel anything anymore and after she left it, the pain would only be more intense—much more than she could handle.

She had just left the water to boil when there was a loud knock on her door. A quick glance down at her pajama shorts and she deemed herself presentable, especially considering she wasn't planning on letting whoever was behind the door inside. There was only one reason why anybody would be standing there at that time of the night on that particular day, and no, she did _not_ need to talk it out or cry it out or even _punch_ it out; what she needed was a bit of silence and solitude, and then she would be on her merry way back to recovery—however farther in the future that happened to be.

However, as soon as she opened the door, it was clear that the impatient person standing behind it had no intention to listen and no reason to care.

The moment the opening was large enough to slip through, he pushed past her, ignoring her surprised gasp and the confused furrow between her brows. A second passed, and he was already out of sight, giving her no other option but to close the door behind him and follow him.

No surprise there, she thought. Forceful should be his middle name.

"What do you want?" she wasted no time in asking, with a courage that she did not have, once she was the same room as him. Her only hope was that she could push this out of the way quickly, _immediately_, before the wound she had haphazardly patched up before leaving Naruto's party opened up wider and she lost the little control she had over her emotions.

Yet, at the same time, she couldn't help the dangerous curiosity that began to trickle through her veins and slowly ooze out into the surface of her skin.

Sasuke had _never_ run after her. He had _never_ knocked on her apartment door without warning. He had never, _ever_ tried to revive a conversation that had already ended, whether it would have been in his interest or otherwise. And now he was there—in her living room, pacing back and forth, dark hair messy in that way it only was when he'd been running his hands through it countless of times.

One glance at his onyx eyes, and she was instantly able to tell that he was angry. It was the emotion she recognized best on him, because it was simply the one he showed her the most.

"You," he hissed, without stopping, without even turning to face her. His voice was low; frustrated_—_furious. "You… are so—_annoying_." Coming to an abrupt halt, with his back to her, he pushed one hand into his hair. "You are _infuriating_!"

Sakura blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said you are infuriating!" he snapped, and finally turned around, an accusing expression plastered on his face. "Running away? Again? Aren't you tired?"

"Running away? Me?!" she yelled, hackles rising. "Are you sure it's _me_ you're so upset at?"

Sasuke resumed his movements, pacing the entire length of the room, his demeanour closely resembling that of a caged lion, silent and deadly, giving off a restless type of energy that enveloped her whole and took her on a journey back in time.

After a long moment of strained silence, he accused, "I never opened up to you because I knew you would leave!"

"Oh, so that's it?" she spat. "Suddenly, _you_'ve been the one testing _me_? Seeing how long I would last before I left?" In a second, the tears returned, and she angrily closed the distance between them, slapping her hands against his chest and pushing him away in a fit of rebellion. "Is that fucking _it_, Sasuke?! _That_'s the reason why you've been playing with my feelings the way you have? Was I just another fucking game to you, Uchiha? Have you really got no heart, you bastard?!"

"Sakura—"

"No!" she screamed. "_No_! I gave you everything, Sasuke! _Everything_! And, all this time, you've been throwing it back in my face and waiting for me to get fed up with it? Waiting for me to have nothing else to give?"

"I'm used to people leaving my life," he snapped. For a brief second, he held her gaze; then he looked and moved away, giving a slow shrug. "And I can deal with it. I've learned to deal with it. But I knew that… once you did…" He stopped. "I knew that… it would be different."

"Different?" she barked, watching him closely through tear-filled eyes.

He walked over to the window and stopped, resting his hands on the wooden frame, gaze fixed on the slumbering village outside.

A full minute passed before he found his voice—and courage—to explain.

"It would kill me."

Sakura huffed. A part of her—the part of her that wasn't too betrayed to feel hope—had expected that answer. "…But not if you killed _me_ first," she concluded, an ironic tilt to her words.

Sasuke looked down, ashamed.

"How does it feel now, Sasuke-kun?" she croaked. Moving so that she was kneeling on the couch, arms resting on its edge, she fixed her stare on his broad shoulders. "Hear this out," she whispered. "I didn't leave you because you weren't enough. I didn't leave you because I hated you. I didn't leave you because you weren't worth it. And I most certainly didn't leave you because I didn't love you. I left you exactly _because_ I did. Because I loved you _too_ much. I loved you so much that, from the very beginning, Sasuke-kun, I believed that I could love enough for both of us. And, on some days… on some days, I still do. And then I want to hit myself, because it _hurts_—because then I tell myself I shouldn't have left. But that's not reality," she said, shaking her head. "If you really needed my love… you would have been selfish—like I know you can be—and taken it. You wouldn't have pushed me away if you'd really needed me. But you didn't. And that's life. I left because I was hurting, because we were heading nowhere… But, the truth is, Sasuke… I also left because I could see I was making you unhappy. And you don't deserve that. You deserve the exact opposite. You deserve someone… someone whose affections you can accept. Someone whose love you need and can embrace. Someone… someone whom you wouldn't even consider pushing away—because even the very thought would be unbearable. Clearly—" She stopped to clear her throat. "Clearly, I'm not that person." Using the back of her hands to unceremoniously swipe at her wet cheeks, she settled down on the couch, turning her gaze away from the painful sight of his tense back.

"…I didn't want to hurt you," he told her.

A small sound of complaint left her lips. "How exactly does that work out, Sasuke?"

He shook his head, unaware that she was unable to see it. She hadn't understood. "I _wanted_ to push you away… because I knew it would hurt you more when you realized that… that I wasn't enough for you. That I'd never be enough for you. And then you would leave."

By the time he stopped talking, she was crying once again.

Was he telling her that, amidst all of his apparently selfish actions, he'd been thinking of her, as well? That he'd been scared she would leave him? That he'd known it would eventually happen? That he'd wanted to spare her the pain of the process? He'd been sabotaging their relationship from the very beginning, thinking it was doomed from the very start… but, part of it… he'd done it for her?

"This is so fucked up, Sasuke," she whispered brokenly.

He swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry. I just… I just wanted you to know… it wasn't you. It was never you." Burying his hands inside the pockets of his pants, he made a move to leave, but Sakura stopped him before he could take more than two steps, stretching out over the back of the couch and gently, desperately, grasping his wrist.

"It was always you, though," she whispered, before she could stop herself, before she could think twice about it, before she could even properly process her intentions. It was instinct—instinct to always stop him from leaving. And, now that she had initiated the action, she looked up at him with pleading green eyes and did everything—_everything_ she could—to see it through to its end. "For me, it will _always_ be you. Sasuke, if you're telling me… if you're telling me you feel something for me, if you're telling me you care about me—even if not as much as I care about you… We can try again. Sasuke, if that's the case, I will _never_ leave you. I can love enough for us both, I told you, as long as you care about me, too. I…" She sobbed, and her grip on his wrist tightened. "Please, for once… just tell me something that I want to hear."

Sasuke sighed. Stepping forward, he crouched down to her level, and for the first time ever, reached out, with both of his hands, to brush away her tears. The look in his eyes was one she'd never seen before—so soft and tender. Sakura raised her hands and placed them over his own, absorbing his touch, his warmth, and committing it to memory.

"I could never make you happy, Sakura," he whispered.

"Maybe," she croaked, gazing deep into his onyx orbs—pleading with him to understand. "But maybe… maybe you could try for a change?"

He was silent, but didn't break eye-contact.

"Sasuke…" she whispered. "I love you. There's no going back. I tried… to forget you. I tried so many times—after you left, after Land of Iron, after the war… I tried again after we broke up. I tried really hard—all these times. But I couldn't. I can't. If you're telling me there's a place for me in your life… just stop fighting and hand it over… please."

He continued to be quiet for a long time—such a long time that she thought he wouldn't answer; such a long time that tears gathered in her eyes again, and she thought she'd once again poured her heart out to him and he hadn't cared.

But then he leaned in and, before she could react, pressed his lips to hers.

It was the first time he initiated a kiss that was so soft, so gentle. It was the first time he initiated a kiss that had a feeling behind it other than lust. It was the first time that he kissed her and she felt… safe; protected; cared for. Not cold, lonely, and empty inside.

Was it a beginning? Gullible as she was, she couldn't help but wonder.

Her answer came in the form a whisper she almost didn't hear—but she felt it, fluttering against her lips, already carving itself a place inside her heart.

"Okay."

She broke into a hopeful smile. "Okay?"

Sasuke sighed, but nodded. "Aa. But, Sakura—"

She didn't let him finish, capturing his lips in yet another gentle kiss, shifting closer to his warmth and pouring into her actions all the feelings that were currently running amock through her entire body. She knew about his insecurities. She'd heard enough about them for the evening.

But she also knew they were unfounded. It was a belief she'd always had, a belief that had stayed with her even when his worst predictions seemed to have come true, and she was once again broken and bleeding because of him.

As long as they both tried, they could make it. They could be together. They could make each other happy.

And there was nothing else in the world that should matter more.

* * *

SasuSaku Month 2014: July 14th—_his side of the story_

A/N: I had one hell of a time figuring out a way to end this… I might come back to edit it tomorrow. But, for now, please let me know what you thought! :)


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